There she is.

  I detected the figure of Lillie approaching from the opening in the woods, causing my heart to beat fast. As she emerged, an impulsive desire to run to her overtook my racing mind. I ran, skipping off the ground, and extended my wings, gliding halfway. She stretched her arms out, and I snatched her up, but, due to my rash choice of action, I lost my balance and faltered to the ground. I didn’t care about the poor excuse of a rough landing, nor the basket flying off to the side, and only focused on holding Lillie tightly in my arms. I felt my feathers ruffled from the harsh landing, and my pride was a little broken from the fall, but I still held Lillie tight. She winced a bit, but also embraced me back. The anxiety welling in my heart dwindled. My body finally allowed the apprehension filling my mind and body to subside as her warmth stirred within.

  “You’re crushing your wings!” Lillie exclaimed, breaking my attention. As I realized I was lying on my back, I leaned forward and allowed my wings to move to the side, and I covered us for a moment, casting darkness around us. I felt Lillie squirm within my grasp, but I nuzzled my face against her neck and tightened my hands against her sides.

  “I don’t care,” I whispered as my nose gently caressed the curvature of her neck, and I inhaled deeply as I filled my senses with the herbal scents of her aroma.

  “Well, you’re crushing me!” she shouted while bobbing back and forth, squirming like a trapped animal. “How are you so strong?!”

  I released my grip, and she pushed off me, panting heavily and moving my wings aside as she escaped my hold. I only laughed; I was too busy thinking about how happy I felt seeing her again. I adjusted myself to a sitting position and began brushing off the twigs and grass I had collected during my tumble. I noticed Lillie’s items were completely dismantled as she picked off wet debris from her basket. I stood up and shyly helped adjust her things. She rearranged her brown scarf and green winter cloak that had been twisted around, and I noticed fresh dirt stains. I pulled out a few twigs from her white hair, and she helped remove some from my tangled hair. She placed her hand on my shoulder, looking up at me, and our eyes met.

  “It is good to see you again,” Lillie said, then suddenly narrowed her eyes. “Even if you soiled my new cloak.”

  “Sorry,” I said, even though I felt the opposite. My heart was too happy to feel ashamed. My hand drifted down to her cheek. Her skin had become dull and without a trace of the cool undertones of a stormy sky. Her under eyes were dark, and the rosy complexion of her cheeks and nose was weak; her hair was white as snow. Yet, I felt she were still as beautiful as ever—like the icy mountain in the winter, only needing warmth and happiness to become fully appreciated in its greatest wonder.

  “I’m so happy to see you,” I said while stroking her cheek. It was surprisingly soft. Lillie’s disgruntled demeanor diminished, and perhaps she forgot about the stain on her cloak caused by my impulsive behavior. She placed her hand on my wrist, gently caressing my skin as she maneuvered her thumb under the edge of the sleeve. As we stared at each other, I could barely breathe. The warmth of her hand felt like fire—a flame that passionately fueled my heart, and I looked at her lips. Again, I wanted them, as they looked so delicious and perfectly kissable.

  Was this also part of my instincts?

  Lillie abruptly let go and moved herself away from me, breaking the intense moment.

  “So, let’s make a fire,” she said cheerfully. I helped her carry her items, and we walked to our designated spot. I proudly showed her the clean fireplace and the dry wood, and welcomed the idea that she could inspect my work accordingly.

  “I’m proud of you,” she said as she examined the area after setting her basket near the stones. “I taught you well. Didn’t I?”

  “You are my greatest teacher,” I said with a nod, and my hands twitched at my side. She chuckled, then encouraged me to start the fire. Within a few moments, I had a fire blazing. We unfolded the blanket together, laying it close to the fire. As usual, Lillie unpacked her basket, bringing out different types of food to eat. She unraveled brown bread, a few stalks of sweet grass, and potatoes. I showed her the mushrooms I had found earlier, and we roasted them over the fire along with the potatoes, which turned out to be exceptionally delicious after thoroughly cooked.

  We ate together. We laughed. We enjoyed the long-awaited company of each other. And my heart finally settled with tranquility.

  “It feels so good to be here right now,” Lillie said after exhaling deeply. “Winter is always so harsh.”

  “Yeah,” I said. Thoughts of my own rough winter encircled my mind. I thought about Cami’s friendship, then his sudden departure, the visit by the Sage, and the upcoming mating-ritual. I shivered at the torture of being left alone for so many months, jumping around my home like a pent-up animal, and pushing my body to its limits just to avoid the unbearable loneliness. I could feel my nerves becoming fully aware of my endeavor to talk to Lillie about a future together. All those months of fantasizing about a life with her—the joy and sense of tranquility I desired—seemed distant, particularly at that moment while I sat next to her. She seemed content and happy. What if she didn’t want to leave her home behind?

  Panic surged through my body. The idea of being rejected by Lillie became a very real possibility, and it scared me. What if she laughs at the idea? What if she doesn’t love me? What if—

  “Sable, you alright?” Lillie asked as I was staring deeply into the fire, lost in my stressful thoughts.

  Why am I thinking about these things now?

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, feeling my wings twitch. I looked down at her hands picking up the empty napkins, folding them, then placing into her basket.

  “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind. Want to talk about it?” Lillie shifted her sitting position, facing me, and my eyes looked up at her. Her head was slightly tilted, and the light of the fire danced in the reflection of her inquisitive eyes.

  Well, I need to tell her at some point how I feel and what I want for her—for us.

  Somehow, being the hero to save Lillie from her troubles in my mind seemed much more valiant than how I felt in that moment. That sense of courage—the fuel of pride—dwindled away at the very idea that perhaps Lillie would not even want the same thing as me. She was obviously struggling with her home life, but what if she was okay with it? What if it was just part of her culture, her people’s way of life, and me inviting her to leave it all behind would be detrimental for her future? What if she wanted a different future than what I had envisioned?

  “I was just thinking about an idea I had,” I finally said.

  “An idea? How exciting!” Lillie replied while leaning forward in anticipation of what words would soon come from my mouth. As I felt Lillie’s eyes stare, I muscled up the courage to speak my mind. My throat felt dry and my face as if a fire burned within. I moved away from the roaring flames, shifting my position in hopes of finding a more comfortable sitting spot. Regardless of my efforts, I still felt very uncomfortable.

  Why am I feeling this way? It’s Lillie! It’s all I’ve been thinking about for so many seasons!

  “I thought a lot about what you said last year,” I said, steadying my voice to hide my apprehension. “About wanting to live in the trees.”

  “Oh really? Ha!” She forced nervous laughter and slapped her thigh as she shook her head. The abrupt vibration and volume triggered a heavy feeling in my stomach.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Oh, Sable, I was just being silly,” she replied. “I don’t know why you would take me so seriously.”

  “Well, you seemed very determined. It sounded like that was what you wanted. You were very upset afterwards.”

  “I want a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I can always get them.”

  “But if you could have it?”

  “Oh, it was just a silly thing.”

  “What if you could live in the trees?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t see that ever being a possibility.”

  “What if it was?”

  “I don’t know! Why does it matter?” Lillie raised her voice at me. Her hands balled into fists, her cheeks became flushed, and she looked away from me. Her eyes did not look angry, but her tone of voice indicated otherwise. Why was she so conflicted? Did I say something wrong?

  “I just wanted to know if you would choose that life for yourself if it was a possibility,” I said and moved slightly away from Lillie, unnerved by her angered state of conflict.

  “Listen,” she said, and hung her head, sighing deeply, and her frustration slowly faded. “I’m sorry, I just—uh—don’t have the luxury to think of such possibilities.” Her answer took me by surprise. Lillie had always encouraged me to try new things and think of new possibilities. Now, she was stating that was a luxury—a privilege she could not allow herself?

  “I do not understand how the idea could be considered a luxury.” I replied. “Why not give yourself a better opportunity and a better life? You seem so miserable, anyway. Why not leave your life in the forest and live here?”

  “Leave my life behind? You don’t understand, nor can I even begin to try to explain to you why I cannot fathom such a future for myself.”

  “Try.” I blinked steadily as I kept my eyes upon her. She raised her hands, flinging loose hairs in her efforts.

  “Ha! You, the lone Teragane on the mountain—you could never understand!”

  “Why have so little faith in me?”

  “Because you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Yes, I know I am the isolated Teragane from the mountain, but have I not proven myself to be open-minded and capable of understanding new ways of life?”

  “It’s not that simple. Right now, you are encouraging me to think of the possibility of leaving behind my home, my friends, and my family! That alone proves to me that you do not understand the importance of my relationships. Yes, obviously you have observed that my life is filled with difficult aspects, whereas I come to the meadow to escape all of it, but only for a little while. That does not mean I can just abandon it because it is difficult for me.”

  There. Here is the truth—the truth I feared all this time.

  The truth hit me like a tree branch bent too far, snapping back into place upon release. She didn’t want the life I so often fantasized about. I could not be the hero, swooping her up into the trees and rescuing her from her hard life in the forest. My heart felt crushed. My mind swirled with negative thoughts and anxious feelings.

  You dullard! You foolish boy! How could I be so stupid?

  Silence overtook the scene with only the crackling fire looming next to us. My heart felt torn. My mind was racing. Was this how we would spend the rest of our lives? Living separately, only spending time together once a full moon? Was it not possible to have more with Lillie? Were we destined to live according to our predestined paths forced onto us by others? What happens when I start the mating-ritual? What will happen when Lillie also finds her own mate? Would we stop meeting together completely even as friends? Did I even want to stay friends with her after feeling so deeply about her?

  “I’m sorry for even suggesting an idea,” I mumbled, and I looked away, past the grassy meadow, and stared into the clear, blue sky. From the corner of my eye, I shot a glance, noticing Lillie’s expression of sadness. I hoped that she also felt conflicted and confused, and perhaps her heart also ached. I wanted her to feel the same as I did. I wanted her to feel crushed—like I felt at that moment.

  “I’m sorry for yelling,” Lillie said as she turned to stare at the fire. “I guess we both come from very different lives, different homes, and different expectations. Our meadow gives us great relief from those expectations, but our responsibilities are still lingering with us, no matter where we go. I know you probably think I’m miserable all the time, but I am making a good life for myself—finally.”

  “Perhaps, however,” I paused, and stood up to overlook the great forest, and then crossed my arms as I examined the vastness of the trees. I then turned and faced the cliffside. I took a few steps, but lingered close enough so that Lillie could still hear me. “However, the world is large, and there are many other ways of life and many possibilities. Regardless of our destined expectations from others, regardless of the life set before us, do you really want to live your life to fulfill other’s wants and expectations? Maybe you are making a better life, but under what control do you still linger? You say you don’t have the luxury of living apart from those who cause you pain.” I glanced back at Lillie, slightly twisting my neck. She appeared paralyzed in her sitting position as her hands gripped at her skirt. But she was breathing deeply and seemingly listening to every word I said.

  “The way I see it,” I continued, “I now know that I am questioning this very idea. I am questioning the very concept of my existence. Should I continue living a life based on other’s ideals, or do I not know what could be better for myself, or at least can I not learn such attributes for myself? Who is to say other people’s ideas of life are better than the next person’s? Who? Why? Can we not make a life good for ourselves based on what we love and desire? For, in the end, whose life are we responsible for anyway? Is it not our own life? And why would we allow others to completely control us, especially if their ideas do not line with our own personal love and desires?”

  I paused, nearly out of breath. I did not expect such words to vomit from my own mouth, yet there I was, standing as the wind blew my untamed hair around my face and my heart pounded with intensity. I may not have felt heroic, but I did feel bold and courageous. I felt relieved to finally express my internal conflict out loud to Lillie—out loud for my world to hear.

  I looked behind me where Lillie sat quietly. Her hands were still tightly gripping her skirt, and tears were streaming down her face. I stayed in my place, and she did not move from her position. The sound of the howling wind filled the air. It was cold where I stood as the wind sent piercing sensations into my ears, but I felt too conflicted to return close to the fire again. My feet were cold, but my head and chest felt hot. My emotions were higher than ever and more complicated than I had ever experienced before. I did not know how to proceed. So, I just stood in silence, looking away from Lillie, scanning the area, the vastness of the valley below, and the mountain range above. The landscape beyond was massive, yet so little in comparison to the world I could only assume expanded in the province. Why did I feel so limited? Did I even want to stay in the meadow, after all?

  I only wanted to fly away from this area with Lillie—away from the Sage, away from the cedar trees, and fly beyond the mountains to escape our expectations and make a new life—together.

  “Perhaps,” Lillie said, breaking the silence. She sniffed, wiped her cheeks, and proceeded to choke up words. “Perhaps all you say is true. Perhaps ideals and expectations should be challenged, but…” Her voice faded.

  I glanced back, and my heart ached for her. Her voice was soft, and all traces of anger had subsided. Her tone was purely unresolved. A desire to comfort Lillie persuaded me to return to her side. When I sat next to her, I waited as she struggled to find the ability to communicate what was deep in her heart.

  “But maybe I am not ready to challenge these things,” Lillie finally said. A sense of relief overcame my heart, and I reached out my hand to her. She hesitated and kept her head low.

  “There is no rush,” I said while lowering my hand to the ground next to where she sat. “Take your time to find your strength.” Lillie leaned her lowered head onto my chest. I wrapped my arm behind her, bringing her close to my side, and Lillie cried softly. I sat in silence while holding her close. The warmth of her tears soaked dampened my cloak, and the fire crackled and popped as its flames slowly died down into coals. My heart settled for a moment. Perhaps there was still hope for a future—a more distant future. It was true; she had more expectations than I had. She needed to find her own strength and evaluate what type of relationships she wanted to keep or do without. Whatever she needed, I would support her. Even if it were true she was making a better life for herself, perhaps she still wanted me as a friend. Maybe there was still hope that we could be together.

  “Lillie,” I said after I noticed her crying had ceased. “I want to understand your life. I want to know more about the important relationships you have.” Lillie sniffed, rubbing her nose with her green cloak.

  “I know you do,” she said. “It’s just—” Her voice faded again.

  “It’s okay,” I uttered softly. “You don’t have to explain yourself today. I just want you to know that I care deeply about you and your life. I don’t want you to make choices based on my desires, but I would like to know more about the struggle of why you cannot choose a luxury of being free from the expectations burdening your shoulders. You say you’re making a better life, yet you cry as if my words cut like a deep wound within your heart. When you’re ready to explain things or help me understand, I’ll be here, waiting.”

  “Okay,” Lillie said, and I felt her head nod on my chest. She wrapped her arm around my waist, and I adjusted my hand to the small of her back, pulling her up against my side, and she relaxed in my arms. She did not speak, and I watched her rise and fall with my steady breathing. I kissed the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair when given the chance. I moved my wings to cover her, and she drifted off to sleep.

  Lillie still cares about me. No need to worry. She just needs more time to evaluate what is most important and what is worth leaving behind.